Six Letter Word [Kaylor]

September 2016 (Part 6)

My appointment with Dr. Miller to find out the results of the biopsies and plan treatment wasn't until after lunch on Wednesday. Karlie had two classes that morning, and since she'd already missed a few with fashion week and all, I really wanted her to go. I promised I would be fine for the morning, maybe even go to the gym or something. I insisted she take one of the guys with her, just in case there was a smidge more attention on her than she was accustomed to on her way to class. She ended up asking Jeff, one of the relatively new guys, because he looks like a slightly more fit version of your average frat guy, and he expressed an interest in computer science. She thought it would attract less attention to have a body guard who looked like he belonged in college, and I was fine with anyone she chose, as long as she was safe.

I ended up going for a workout. There were more cameras than ever outside, snapping pictures of me in my (confession, Karlie's) gym clothes as I went in. I have a love/hate relationship with the paparazzi, but I will give them credit. Most shouted congratulations on the wedding at me, and when one guy shouted something about me being sick, another paparazzo whacked him upside the head. I may not always love living my life in flashing lights, but most of them are, like me, just trying to make a living, and most are fairly respectful. It was kinda nice seeing one stand up for me for a change. I really threw myself into the workout, as though working harder could somehow affect the outcome in the afternoon, and emerged looking actually sweaty for once. I wouldn't normally think that was a good thing, but it meant that the photogs were more focused on getting shots of my sweat-darkened roots than provoking me into changing my facial expression.

I had just finished getting ready for the appointment when Karlie burst up the stairs at a run. "Holy shit, Taylor! Is that what it's like for you everyday?" She looked me up and down and gave a low whistle, which I took to mean she approved of the skirt and sweater outfit I'd chosen. I'd gotten everything ready to make apple turkey grilled cheese sandwiches, hold the turkey for Karls, and spinach salads to make up for the gooey cheese and pile of carbs. We ate at the breakfast bar while she told me all about her morning. Going to class had been normal. The first one was Aesthetic Justice, which has something to do with law and art, and the intersection of the two. The second was Data Structures, which has something to do with computer science, I think. And nothing out of the ordinary had happened, other than Karlie asking her instructors if it would be okay if Jeff sat in, for the duration of both classes. But apparently someone in her Data Structures class texted someone not in her classes and suddenly a crowd formed outside as it was letting out, and Jeff definitely earned his paycheck clearing them out so the rest of the students could escape. I felt bad. She's always been able to move around the city like anyone else, and I'd ruined that for her, just by giving her my name. I never wanted to hurt her by her association with me, and I couldn't help but think this was all my fault. She wouldn't let me though, assuring me that once the novelty had worn off she would probably be able to go back to being an oddly tall anonymous sophomore. And until then, Jeff had really enjoyed Data Structures, even though I still had no idea what they were talking about and probably never would.

And then it was time to go to the appointment. We picked up my mom from the Charles Street apartment on the way, so she could hear the official diagnosis and be part of the treatment discussion. I had mixed feelings. I wasn't as scared this time, because I already knew I had cancer. They weren't going to change the diagnosis. It was only going to get more specific. They weren't actually going to physically do anything this visit, but we were going to talk about a treatment plan. In a way, I thought that would be helpful, having a plan, knowing what to expect. Sure, I wasn't going to enjoy whatever I had to do to get better, but at least I would know what it was, and I would, hopefully, get better as a result. I was still a little apprehensive, knowing that what happened in that office would define my future for a while, but having a name for what I had, and a plan for how to make it better, that sounded better than just. not. knowing.